I am not a natural dancer. I acquit myself admirably on a dancefloor, but is it wholly organic and natural? Well, no. Someone who seems to have no trace of this problem is American singer and dancer Ciara, my dance inspiration.

My first experience of Ciara, 31, came with her debut single, Goodies, back in 2004. As debuts go, Goodies is one of the greats of the noughties; I was sent her album to review for my uni magazine, and I remember watching the accompanying music video slack-jawed with wonder. My goodness, the way Ciara moves!

She’s no powerhouse vocalist, but then she doesn’t need much: her voice is a sweet, breathy thing, perfect for skipping lightly over party beats. She makes music to dance to, and her videos are testament to that: Get Up, Promise, Ride, Like A Boy – I can’t pick a fave. Ciara’s currency as a dancer is precision and high difficulty. Her body becomes a sort of human syncopated beat – an urgent thing, parts moving seemingly independently but all working to a greater good. On a purely technical level, her dancing is damn near untouchable.

She’s had a quietish few years, taking time out to have a son, and getting into fashion (she’s signed with a leading modelling agency). My crush has bloomed and settled into something closer to sisterly solidarity as she has weathered the messy end of one relationship (earning the ire of many a misogynist internet idiot, upset that she was moving on with her life) and begun a new one; last month, she announced a second pregnancy. I hope she dances right into that the delivery room.